


The Power of Second Chances

by Misedejem



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, death/ attempted suicide, lots of headcanon here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misedejem/pseuds/Misedejem
Summary: The pain and suffering that had tormented Victor so ruthlessly all his life did not cease at his defeat at the hands of the Vestal of Wind. In the face of political and personal turmoil, he could not help but think that perhaps it never would.(Spoilers for Bravely Default/Bravely Second. An exploration of what became of Victor and Victoria following the events of Bravely Default.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bravely Second implies that the duchy all survive, but doesn't tell us what happened to Victor and Victoria. This was supposed to just be a short headcanon about Victor, because I miss him, but turned into this.

The strange figure clad in green barely said a word to those they were saving. Their identity obscured, and their motives unclear, they acted only as a guiding hand to safety. Brief answers met the shaky questions stuttered by a person who had seen death, and who had barely escaped its clutches. Some of them had even failed to escape at all, but that was no matter. The Man in Green was absolutely determined not to let the Vestal spill a drop of Eternian blood. 

“Perhaps I do not want to sully your attacker’s names.”

“Perhaps I am giving you a second chance.”

“Perhaps this simply is not your time.”

In truth, there were countless reasons. The Man in Green did wonder how much of a difference their actions would make on the Eternians’ lives. Whether they did or not, the asterisk holders were simply far too precious a resource to waste on such a trivial matter as a war caused by miscommunication. 

Some of them did make the most of their new chance at life. They tried to make better choices, and learn and teach new skills. The Black Blade’s scientist ended up sliced to pieces in a prison cell not a year after his revival, but he was one disgraced name among many. The Man in Green did not regret the choice to save the Duchy. Only one case, a young man who had begged for death instead of clinging to his life, really gave them any doubt.

* * *  
Victor made a conscious effort not to let anybody know what happened when he had faced the Vestal. Not even Victoria. She had slipped away into unconsciousness and he, unable to comprehend even the slightest sliver of optimism that she may have survived, had fallen into utter despair. He couldn’t even remember what he had said or done. There was a numbness, and a deep anguish that threatened to rob him of everything he had ever cared for. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than death. He wanted to inflict it on the people who had hurt Victoria, and he wanted so badly to die himself. His existence had become a hollow void, and what was the point in continuing to live in nothingness?

He wasn’t sure how that fight had ended. He’d woken up a few hours later in a hospital bed, uninjured but shaken and exhausted, with nurses prodding him with more information than his weakened state could hope to retain. Victoria was in a similar state. As was the Grand Marshal. A mysterious figure in green. No need to worry. No sign of the Vestal, but Alternis had gone after her. A false alarm.

 _‘Perhaps it would be better if it hadn’t been…’_ he told himself, thinking that at least that would have given him a valid reason to let himself get so upset. He hated himself for thinking such a terrible thing, almost as much as he hated himself for being so completely fragile and useless. Despair was displaced by a churning guilt in his stomach that refused to go away, and that overwhelmed him whenever he looked at Victoria’s tiny figure curled up in her bed. She was despondent, but he knew that was only because she was sulky about having been defeated. Physically, for the meanwhile, she was fine. That didn’t do anything to stop him cursing himself for letting her down.

The Grand Marshal walked with a limp and a cane for months following his injury in battle. Had he not been treated immediately, by an unknown medic, he would have lost the ability to lift a sword entirely, but Victor was confident that he would be back to his old self in no time. As with Alternis, who had supposedly nearly drowned in the currents off the coast of Al-Khampis after falling hundreds of feet from an airship. By all means, the Dark Knight should have died, but as much as Victor disliked him, he was pleased he hadn’t. His treatment was a good distraction from the cacophony inside Victor’s head, and a decent excuse for avoiding the Grand Marshal’s questions, so heavily weighted with genuine worry that it made his heart sink. 

“You have been sleeping and eating well, haven’t you? You look tired, and you’ve lost weight. Swear you’ll say something if you are troubled.”

When Edea Lee returned, it took some time for her to confidently look at the people she had previously opposed. Victoria berated her for her disrespect, but Victor was grateful that he did not have to look at the girl’s face every time they met. She was likely one of the few people who remembered what he had been like when he had broken down in their fight. When he looked at her, he saw only pity. He didn’t want - didn’t deserve - to be pitied. He was angry and disappointed in himself, and so he believed others should have been too. 

***  
The Council of Six had been in Caldisla to forge a renewed peace between the Duchy and the Kingdom when Tiz Arrior had collapsed at the gravesite of his younger brother, and the world fell into a state of shock and mourning. The six months prior had fed positivity back into Luxendarc’s fraying structure, bit by bit, with the world being saved from some apocalyptic calamity, a peace negotiations and reconstruction efforts in Eisen and Florem underway, but the thought of losing the world’s beloved hero had cast something of a shroud over the celebration. 

“I just don’t understand why they loved him so much.” Victoria had said in a not-so-hushed whisper when Victor had explained his early return. She had not joined the others in Caldisla in fear that the journey would have been too much for her, but had insisted that Victor go without her. He didn’t understand her reasoning, but obliged nonetheless.

“I think a lot of it is down to him advocating the Norende rebuilding effort,” Alternis replied, shrugging. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but he’s a symbol of hope and the people want to hold onto him.”

“I understand, thank you Alternis. I’m offended that you’d imply any different.” She folded her arms haughtily. 

Alternis ignored her, and Victor began to tell him to apologise, but was cut off. 

“It’d have been bad if he had died. I mean… On a personal level, Edea would have been crushed, and the world would have been too, I guess. Lucky you were there, Victor.”

“Yes, undoubtedly he would have died without immediate medical intervention. He’s stable now, at least, and the medics in Eternia will summon me if anything goes awry.”

“Yes… You did good out there. I, uh…” the Dark Knight ducked his head. “Thank you.”

Alternis quickly excused himself and walked in the complete opposite direction to where they had previously been headed. Victoria stared at him dumbfounded, and Victor raised his eyebrows. 

Alternis’ sudden politeness seemed almost… grateful, which was incredibly perplexing to come from a man who had openly detested Victor since they had been children. He had never thanked him before in his life, so to thank him for saving the life of a boy who had been partially responsible for throwing him off an airship… But then, Victor supposed, it wasn’t Tiz Arrior he was being thanked for. 

***  
Very few asterisk holders returned to Eternia in the following months. Some did not even send a letter or word to the Grand Marshal, instead remaining in some disturbing limbo where nobody quite wanted to call them dead, but nobody knew if they lived either. When the Bloodrose Legion’s surviving soldiers returned, their systems heavily damaged by dangerous toxins and narcotics, the duchy turned much of its attention towards finding Fiore DeRosa and incarcerating him. Braev’s private goal was to locate the others who had not been found as well, but it was obvious in the melancholy of his demeanour that he believed his efforts were in vain.

There was a genuine tone of concern in Victoria’s voice when she had discovered Victor hunched over his desk in tears one evening, several months after Caldisla. His hand was shaking, clutching a sheet of parchment with a letter penned in unruly writing, which the girl snatched away from him before he could so much as move his arm away.

“Victor…” she sighed after having satiated her desire to invade his privacy without permission, “isn’t this good news? Why are you crying?”

Victor removed his spectacles and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He could tell he had a stupid grin on his face, and Victoria’s confusion was only amusing him further. Perhaps in a different situation of events, he would have been deeply embarrassed instead, but at this point he was too far gone for that.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, tilting her head and folding her arms.

“No! No, no, I’m not.” He breathed deeply to quell his giddiness. “Sometimes happy things make me emotional. That’s all. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Victoria made a bemused noise, and looked at the letter again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry because you’re happy before.”

Victor decided not to reply, though he found the answer to be almost painfully obvious to him. In truth, the reason she had never seen him overjoyed in all the time they had spent together was that, ever since he had taken over her treatment, he could not recall a time in which he had been happy.

Feeling slightly crestfallen, Victor decided to write a reply to the letter before misery sapped the good mood from him completely. 

_Dear Holly,_  
I am so pleased to hear that you are alive and well…  
***  
The sudden, violent murder of the disgraced Dr. Qada on the eve of his execution date was perhaps an all too telling omen of the absolute chaos that would plague the duchy’s fragmented relationships for the year to come. Central Command was bombarded with an influx of angry letters following the break in, particularly from Black Blades soldiers, and when orders were issued to find the killer, the Bloodrose Legion revolted, enraged that the investigation into DeRosa was no longer taking priority. Strangely, this did not seem to bother the Grand Marshal. He made no mention of it, and when it was brought up, he waved it off as though it was a trifle thing. 

“-and it’s not even like the Venus sisters are doing anything to stop them. I’m concerned that they may in fact be behind thi- ouch!”

“Perhaps if you didn’t jerk so much, it wouldn’t hurt,” Victor sighed, withdrawing the ointment-covered cloth from Alternis’ face. The Dark Knight had been assaulted by Bloodrose mages, who had apparently been practising their Dark and Light based spells especially for the Council. Even his armour wasn’t enough to protect him from Holy magic. 

“This is treason, for one.”

“Yes, and the people who attacked you were arrested. I doubt Einheria would condone such a thing, however. She’s loyal, first and foremost, to the Lord Marshal. She is also our friend.”

Alternis frowned, and looked as though he was going to retort, only to be cut off by the Grand Marshal entering the room. Victor slammed his hand to Alternis’ shoulder and held him still to prevent him from rising to greet the Templar.

“I’m not done.”

“Victoria is not here?” Braev asked, looking about.

“She was in my office, last I saw her, if you want to fetch her.” Victor kept his eyes firmly on the burn he was dabbing at.

“I was actually hoping to speak to the two of you without her.”

“…Oh.”

The Grand Marshal patiently waited for Victor to finish treating Alternis before speaking once more. Once he could give the Templar his full attention, Victor could not prevent his face from falling at how grim he looked. It was a look he so frequently saw in his own face, and one he associated with suffering. It was disturbing to see in someone else.

“I have to be frank with you both. I have been acting behind your backs. The Pope and I have been in secret correspondence for many months now.”

That would explain why he didn’t want Victoria to hear what he had to say. Victor’s heart began to sink.

“Don’t worry about it, Lord Marshal,” Alternis assured him.

“It comforts me to hear that, Alternis. However, I am afraid this is no comforting matter. Heinkel is currently in Eisenberg, and he has warned us that Hartschild’s military are preparing for war on the Duchy. They may even be behind Qada’s assassination.”

“We can’t possibly go to war with Eisenberg! Not with the Eternian forces in shambles like this!” Alternis clenched his fists.

“Shambles seems to be underexaggerating the situation, Alternis. We don’t have a military force anymore. Nor do we have an ally in Anchiem, with Lord Khamer abdicated. We barely have Caldisla on our side.” Victor reminded him, attempting to keep his voice calm.

“The situation is dire. If we go to war with Eisenberg, we will lose. That is where Pope Agnès comes in.” The Grand Marshal folded his arms. “She believes the Orthodoxy may be able to help.”

“She wants us to ally ourselves with Gathelatio’s forces? Lord Marshal, the Crystal Guard is a powerful force, but they’re… There’s not enough of them.”

“Not exactly, Alternis. She moves we forge a peace treaty between the Duchy and the Orthodoxy. Perhaps in doing so, it will make us seem less threatening.”

Alternis started. “Lord Marshal, the Duchy will never agree to such a thing! We’ll lose support from the remaining asterisk holders, if Victoria doesn’t murder us first.”

“I know. I was hoping you two could talk to them for me. The Sky Knights will likely pose little issue, but it would be helpful if we didn’t have to contend with objections from Victoria and Eloch. And we have already disappointed the Venus family enough. Even though most of the asterisk holders no longer serve us, I do not want to see them become our enemies.”

“We can’t tell her,” Victor interjected rather curtly. His hands would not stop shaking, no matter how much he willed for them to. 

“Nor can we keep this a secret. We need to make a decision, and –”

“If we tell her, she’ll die. She… She won’t be able to handle it.”

***  
Victor had been unable to tell the Templar that Victoria’s condition was worsening. It was hard enough admitting it to himself without being struck with waves of self-loathing, guilt, and despair. Yet she wasn’t responding well to her treatments. She was growing weaker every day. Victor knew there was only a matter of time before she died. It was nothing less than blatant fact. The Lees were already dealing with loss – Kamiizumi had not resurfaced, and Edea was certain he was dead. Selfish as it was, Victor didn’t want the guilt of hurting Braev to haunt him as well.

Selfishness was his specialty, it seemed.

“Victoria is dying, isn’t she?” Alternis asked him.

“Don’t say that.” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you look so awful since your father died. Obviously something is wrong.”

“This is nothing like when my father died. Don’t bring that up.” 

“I’m sorry…” He sounded genuine, and once again Victor was caught off guard by his sudden change of tone towards him.

“…Do I really look that bad?”

Alternis nodded. “Does she know?”

“Of course she knows...” Victor rubbed his left temple with his wrist as subtly as he could; his head was pounding, most likely from exhaustion. He hadn’t been sleeping all that well. “Why do you care, Alternis?”

The Dark Knight did not reply. Instead he patted Victor on the arm, pausing there for a moment as though he was thinking about what to say. Instead, he left his hand drop, and walked away.

***  
“Central Healing Tower contacted me this morning,” Victor announced sombrely to the rest of the Council, not a week after the Grand Marshal had warned them about Eisenberg’s war plans. “They brought troubling news regarding Tiz Arrior. The technology they have isn’t going to be enough to save him. Unless they find a solution soon, he may be lost to us forever.”

Braev frowned. “Losing the world’s beacon of hope with war on the horizon will only cause further dissent. Is there nothing we can do?”

“Not without using the Earth Crystal. Which will undoubtedly make people just as angry.” 

“And smiting Eisenberg is really not an option?” Victoria asked curiously. Victor had settled on disclosing only the part about war from their secret meeting to her, and she had insisted on coming to the Council meeting following it. Apparently, she was still keen on destroying Eternia’s enemies, even in her weakened state. It was both encouraging and painful to see.

“That will turn just about everybody against us,” Alternis sighed. “But letting Tiz die would be awful. It would break Edea’s heart…”

“I don’t think Edea Lee’s personal relationships mean much in this situation, Alternis,” Victor sighed.

“It would break the Pope’s heart as well,” he mumbled. Victoria laughed, but Victor and Braev exchanged brief, wary glances. Agnès was perhaps the only remaining hope for Eternia. They could not afford to crush her like that. 

“Victor, is there truly no way to save him?” The Grand Marshal almost seemed to be begging at this point.

“Perhaps if we used the life support in Central Command. The elixir is more potent than anything from the city, so it should be able to maintain him for a far longer period. But he would have to remain there permanently until we find a way to revive him, or improve the technology in the Healing Tower. Nobody else would be able to use the chamber.” 

“That would be a problem,” Braev sighed. 

Everybody in the room knew exactly what he meant. Even before her condition started to rapidly worsen, the healing apparatus in Central Command was the only thing able to keep Victoria stable. If the Council moved to save Tiz, she would die.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Victoria said, her voice soft and lacking any of its usual vigour. “If it’s really the only option, let him live in there. I have no more use for it anyway.” She shrugged.

“Victoria, you can’t do that!” 

“No, Victor, I can do what I want. You and I both know that I’m dead either way, so what’s the difference?”

“I can’t just stop your treatments yet… What if there’s a chance –”

“There’s no chance. I don’t get you sometimes. For as long as we’ve known each other, you’ve always let me have my way, except for this one thing. One thing you don’t even have the rights to control. I’ve spent my entire life in agony because of you. All because you’re too much of a coward to face up to reality and accept that you can’t save everyone.”

“Don’t think I don’t know that!” Victor’s voice was choked with something awful, and he could not tell if it was anger or sadness. Even as Braev placed a hand on his shoulder, his whole body shook violently. 

“Victoria… This is the most noble thing you’ve ever done,” Alternis exclaimed in a state of genuine bewilderment.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, Alternis. I’m glad someone’s on my side.”

“I will always be on your side…” Victor murmured, “I just want to help you…”

“That much has always been obvious. Don’t beat yourself up, Victor,” Braev assured him in the most soothing voice he could manage. Even he sounded utterly defeated.  
“I know, I know. But what you think is helping is only making it worse.” Victoria exhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry…” tears now strangled his words. “I’m so sorry… I just… I can’t stand the thought of losing you… All I wanted to do was save you…” His knees gave way and he sank to the floor.

“And instead, you made me miserable. Lord Marshal, don’t look at me like that, he needs to hear this. Listen to me, Victor. You ruined my life. I will never forgive you for that.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to…”

“So, you have two choices. You can be selfish, not only to me, but to everybody who relies on this Tiz guy, making me hate your guts. Or, you can let me go on my own terms. It’s your happiness, or mine, Victor. What will it be?”

Victor couldn’t bear to look at her, nor anybody else in the room. He stared at the floor, his tears dripping from the lenses of his glasses and onto the tiles below. He could no longer feel himself shaking. There was only numbness.

“…Yours, Victoria… Of course I want you to be happy… That’s the only thing I could ever want.”

***  
Norzen Horoskoff had not corresponded with his friends and family from Anchiem in nearly ten years. The one downside of having been mature beyond his years as a child was that many of his peers were considerably older than him, meaning that by the age of sixty he was already one of the few people from his social circle still alive. The Great Plague had not helped. By no means, however, was the old Professor lonely. The staff and students at Al-Khampis made for delightful company, even if his work sometimes kept him from them for slightly longer than was probably appropriate. He thought that perhaps it was for the best that he hadn’t spoken to his colleagues from Anchiem anyway. They’d been involved in some rather nasty business involving the duchy, and there was a lot of news regarding gruesome murders involving duchy supporters of late. 

Despite this, it did not come as shock to see a letter from the former King of Anchiem in his office one morning, along with one from the Grand Marshal of the Eternian forces himself, and a Doctor Whyte, with whom he was not familiar. He knew his path would collide with Eloch again, and knew he would meet two significant strangers at the same time. The stars had told him as much. They didn’t tell him why, however, but he could surmise from the fact that he had seen a fourth person as well that this was likely the subject matter of at least one of the letters. Surely Eloch knew that he didn’t need to announce their arrival? Had the old Time Mage fallen prey to the very thing that he had once bent to his will, and lost his memory retention to the ravages of age?

Oh, if only that were the reason. For even the stars could not have prepared Norzen for the terrible things that Khamer, Braev, and Holly had thought it was important to warn him about in the letters.

***  
Victor hadn’t seen or spoken with his uncle since his father’s funeral a decade ago. He’d always been fond of him, but Norzen and Vincent had fallen out when Vincent had chosen to go with Braev instead of staying in Al-Khampis to help with the research for the plague. Something to do with Vincent’s absence being partially responsible for the eventual death of a researcher named Tabitha Napkatti. Frankly, it was surprising that Norzen turned up to the funeral at all. But he had always been supportive of Victor, even if his father had been a disgrace.

It was quite a surreal experience, really. To be in Al-Khampis for the first time since he had graduated with six stars at thirteen. To be in his uncle’s huge arms once more, with Khamer, who had been like a father where Vincent had failed when he had been a child. Were Braev and Holly not present, gawking in bewilderment at the enormous man that had come to greet them, it would almost have felt like Victor was back in a moment from his past. Part of him wished that he was. When he had been a child, he had known suffering, but never like he had over the previous few months. That was a feeling he never wanted to experience again.

It had been Mephilia and Alternis who had suggested Victor be sent back to Al-Khampis. They thought it would be best for him to be away from Eternia. After Vincent and Victoria had died there, they thought from their own experiences that it would be easier for his to distance himself from his grief if he was physically parted from it, and Al-Khampis had family and good memories of his time as a student. Their involvement was perhaps the strangest part of the whole experience, that two people who had openly despised him for years were so willing to help him recover. Even they didn’t want him to die, and they were, along with so many others, part of the reason he hadn’t. He owed his life to so many people, that he vowed he would at least try to make their efforts worth it and accomplish something in Al-Khampis.

He spent the next six months helping Norzen with his research and making his way through his vast collection of books. The vast differences between Eternia and Harena, in climate, food, and customs, had done nothing to help his already poor sleeping and eating habits, but it did convince him to try and take better care of his hair so that it would not get in his way so much. He began to braid it again, like he had used to when he had been a teenager and had started growing it out. Once or twice, he had considered cutting it all off, but he didn’t have the motivation or resources to do so. 

Nobody in Al-Khampis seemed to know who he was, or expect anything of him, which was strangely liberating. He hadn’t quite realised how much being a doctor had added to his stress levels until he was no longer working in the field. There were downsides, of course, such as the cafeteria giving him meat and fish because he forgot to mention they upset his stomach, so he was a vegetarian. Even that took a surprisingly positive turn when he was able to use the cuts of meat to befriend a feline-like child named Minette who appeared to live on the streets, and despite his aversion to cats, was quite good company. She disappeared one day, but he didn’t have much time to worry before he had been assured that a man wearing a black coat had taken her in and offered her a home one evening. Victor wasn’t entirely sure how true that was, but he did not want to dwell on the negative possibilities. He started spending his lunch breaks in his uncle’s study with him instead so he would not be alone with his thoughts.

***  
Victor began to have strange, recurring dreams about a year after moving to Al-Khampis. He was familiar with weird, often scary dreams haunting his sleep. They were just an after effect of the hell he had gone through surrounding his father’s murder. Usually his recurring dreams were memories of some kind though, and this was very much not. It didn’t make them any less unpleasant to see – if anything they were more awful because he had no idea what caused them.

He dreamed that his all his old colleagues in Eternia had been tortured, killed, and turned into monsters in horrendous experiments. He dreamed of Minette, the girl he fed scraps to, and saw her murdering Norzen in cold blood. He dreamed that he crossed paths with Ciggma Khint, whose daughter had died when a group called the Glanz Empire had attacked Eternia, and that these were the people responsible for the monsters, and for Norzen’s murder. For some reason, Edea was there, with Tiz, who was miraculously alive, and two youths he didn’t know. Apparently Khint had killed a young man associated with the Empire - one of their officers - and Victor wanted Edea to report him to her father, even though, as the Spell Fencer put it, they’d killed the only family either of them had left. Yet Victor was devoted to saving life. He thought murderers should be punished. Victoria had been the only exception. He could never say no to her.  
These dreams felt so real that he had never been happier to see his uncle appear the next morning at his door with a mug of tea for him. At least, he supposed as he drank and looked out over the skyline of the city from his window, Victoria wasn’t any part of them.

It felt as though it had been eons since that part of his life. Since Victoria’s recovery had been his sole reason to exist, and since he attempted to take his own life instead of live without her. And while it still hurt, after only a year he felt as though he had some control back in his life. His existence had more meaning. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so free.

***  
“Is it true that you invented Spiritism, Professor?” Holly asked, attacking the slice of cake in front of her with a fork. Spring had brought longer evenings, and many students and faculty at the university were taking advantage of them by sprawling about on the balconies and steps about the city.

“I think you’re mistaking Spiritism for Spirit Magic, Doctor Whyte,” Norzen replied, chuckling. “The latter is based on the former, however. I used my knowledge of our Victor’s asterisk, and the magical prowess of an incredibly gifted young woman, to create a kind of black magic that doesn’t rely on the crystal’s power, but instead on elemental spirits.”

“Then the Empire got hold of it…” Victor mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

“Remember when the Glanz Empire were relevant? I sure don’t.”

“Shush, Holly. Eat your cake.”

“You have it. Clock man’s cooking is too rich for me.”

“Pour some wine on it. You’ll eat that right up.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“You mustn’t insult somebody on their birthday.”

Holly raised her eyebrow, a smirk appearing on her face. “Since when have you cared about your birthday? Besides the cake part?”

Victor shrugged. Norzen rose to his feet and began carrying things back indoors, leaving the two of them alone on the balcony they were sat at.

“You didn’t even celebrate when we were kids. Again, besides the cake.”

“Khamer makes good cake. We used to bake together, way back when I was tiny and my father worked for the King at the time. It’s how I learned to cook, in the royal kitchens in Anchiem. Anyway, this isn’t a celebration.”

“Are you sure? This is a student town. The night life is bound to be good, and thirty is a milestone worth celebrating.”

“Holly, I work here now. I can’t go to bars with my students, that’s… Completely unprofessional.” 

“Nonsense. It’ll make them love you more. Come on.”

“I can’t. I really ought not, I…” He paused briefly. “I’m sure I have something alcoholic in my kitchen, however... If we must… Ah… Celebrate a milestone, as you so clearly want to.”

Holly punched the air in triumph, kissed him on the cheek, and rushed into the house to fetch it. Victor was taken slightly aback at the sudden display of affection, but shrugged it off quickly and followed her to help. 

The Victor who had stood on a stool, making mounds out of pastry with the former Prince of Anchiem would have never been able to comprehend the life he had ahead of him. It was the kind of existence the eleven-year-old, sharing cake with his Eternian friends, would have associated only with the books he used to read (and had never grown out of). It would have terrified him. He supposed, reflecting on it, that it still terrified him. The thought that thirteen, ten, even five years ago, he had genuinely assumed he would never celebrate his thirtieth birthday, chilled him to his very core.

The guilt over what happened to Victoria hadn’t gone away. He didn’t think it ever would. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. But he felt as though he might be able to cope with that. He had a job he enjoyed, and could recognise that there were people in his life who really wanted to be there for him. He was still alive. It was more than he’d ever had, and ever expected to have from his life. Even though it wasn’t much, and he still had a lot of recovery left to endure, it was enough.

For now, at least, he was at peace. That was really all that mattered.


End file.
